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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27029128">Keeping the Captain in Line</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimeewrites/pseuds/aimeewrites'>aimeewrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Captain's Training [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Voyager</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BDSM, F/M, Romance, Spanking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:20:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,864</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27029128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimeewrites/pseuds/aimeewrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In this universe, Starfleet uses corporal punishment to keep its officers in line.<br/>Especially its captains - guess who has the task of disciplining Captain Janeway during Voyager's seven years in the Delta Quadrant ? Her First officer ...<br/>Episodes The Caretaker, Persistence of Vision, Equinox </p><p>Sequel to The Captain's Discipline, but can be read as a stand-alone</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Captain's Training [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952092</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Captain’s Log, Stardate: 48317.6</p><p>My heart was in my throat. I was still reeling from the fact that we were seventy thousand light years from home, with no way of getting back because my stupid principles had made me destroy the caretaker’s array. On the plus side, we had Mr. Kim and Ms Torres back. And I had gained a few more crew members. The fact that they belonged to the Maquis was irrelevant, wasn’t it? Oh, who was I kidding – of course it wasn’t – I had just added almost three dozens rebels to my Starfleet crew. And I was about to ask their leader to be my First Officer, with everything it entailed.</p><p>“Come in,” I said when the door beeped.</p><p>“You wanted to see me, Captain?”</p><p>He was no longer in his Maquis clothes and wore the uniform well. He also wore a slight edge of dangerousness, a remnant of rebellion, and his dark eyes remained unreadable as he stood before my desk in the ready room, in a relaxed “at ease” pose, his hands behind his back. Mr. Chakotay had been a Starfleet officer before – an instructor in Advanced Tactical Training, even– surely he knew…</p><p>“I did. Please have a seat, M. Chakotay.”</p><p>He sat and I cleared my throat, wondering how best to formulate my request. As captain, I was supposed to speak first, but I was unreasonably unnerved by his calm silence.</p><p>“As you know, my first officer, Lieutenant Commander Cavit, was killed during our – our abduction – by the Caretaker.”</p><p>He nodded. I went on: “I’d like you to take the position, with the rank of Commander. Would you agree to that? I believe it would be the best way to unite our two crews.”</p><p>He remained silent, as he was pondering the idea. I just couldn’t wait.</p><p>“Well?”</p><p>He nodded again: “All right – I accept. But I don’t want to be your token Maquis officer.”</p><p>“Why don’t you make a list, and I’ll see what I can do. Err – Commander – do you – do you remember the duties of a First officer?”</p><p>I knew my cheeks were crimson – I could feel the heat. He looked at me with puzzled, almost irritated eyes: “I believe I do, Captain – I was Starfleet too…”</p><p>“Yes – yes of course, but…”</p><p>I couldn’t say it – I just couldn’t. I’d never had to ask before. I had already served with Lieutenant Commander Aaron Cavit and when he had been assigned to Voyager, I had been somewhat relieved. At least I knew him – he wasn’t a particularly charismatic or inspiring man, but he was steady, serious and loyal to Starfleet. I was ready to submit to and be disciplined by him. But Chakotay… Chakotay was an another story. As I was wondering what to say, he suddenly smiled – or maybe smirked: “Don’t worry, Captain – I’ve been told I give a good spanking…”</p><p>I lowered my eyes, ostensibly looking at my padd, but mostly because I was too ashamed to look at him – I knew my face was even redder than before, if that was possible. He went on: “When should we schedule your first discipline session, Captain?”</p><p>I was tempted to tell him that this was punishment enough – the shame of having to remind him that among the many first officer duties, disciplining the captain was one of the most important one. Even though I had – in my opinion – much improved since my first command, I knew I was still far from perfect, and this last blunder – or, more like, this latest colossal, titanic mistake – was proof of it. A mistake he would soon spank out of me.</p><p>“Err…Tonight?” I murmured.</p><p>“2000 hours, Captain – don’t be late,” he stated quietly but forcefully.</p><p>I gulped. “Dismissed!”</p><p>He smiled – or smirked, maybe – and left me alone in the ready room, my bottom already tingling.</p><p>At 1950 hours, I was pacing, unable to sit still. I’d spent most of the afternoon in engineering, where Lieutenant Carey was doing his best, helped by one of our Maquis newcomer, a half-Klingon young woman named B’Elanna Torres. I was still reeling from the lost of my chief engineer, as well as of the ship’s doctor. How would we cope? However, instead of brooding, I tried to make myself useful. I’d come back to my ready room about half an hour before 2000 hours and had tried to keep busy with reports, but my mind refused to concentrate and all I could see were Mr Chakotay’s hands… By making him my First Officer, I had effectively offered him my submission, and it scared me. Not because I did not trust him – even if I’d been sent to bring him back to Starfleet, even if he and his crew were considered renegades, I respected someone who fought for his beliefs. If anything, I was scared because I trusted him – had from the first time he had alighted on my bridge. I believed he was an honourable man, but because of that, I was sure he would not hesitate to take me to task    In many ways, he was like Tuvok – a passionate Tuvok, which was something of an oxymoron, but kind of fitted Chakotay.</p><p>I finally steadied myself and sat down behind my desk – it gave me a feeling of authority I sorely needed. I dimmed the lights a little – I’m not sure why. And then the door buzzed and Chakotay came in.</p><p>“Commander”</p><p>“Captain.”</p><p>He looked sober and resolute – no smile this time. I lowered my eyes, suddenly unsure how to proceed. My previous commands had been for shorter missions and I’d been disciplined afterwards at Starfleet Command – only once. This was my first onboard discipline session. Was the room soundproof? I frantically searched my mind – I thought I had all the schematics of Voyager firmly embedded there, but I could not, for the life of me, remember that small but suddenly very significant detail.</p><p>“We should start, Captain – would you rather do it on the couch or here?” Mr Chakotay said softly, pointing at the chair. I blushed peony red – he intended to spank me over his lap?? Good God – that wasn’t what I’d prepared myself for…I’d thought…Oh well, I don’t know what I’d thought, exactly. I looked up briefly and realised he was waiting for an answer.</p><p>“Err – the couch?” I murmured. My reasoning was that if the room was not completely soundproof, the couch was further from the door leading to the bridge…I cursed the formality of the procedure – was there something in Starfleet regulations about where the captain’s discipline should take place? Maybe I could suggest my quarters for the next time? They were more isolated. But it would also be more intimate- too intimate.</p><p>I stood up and followed him to the couch area. He seemed to hesitate for a moment and then sat down, leaving me standing in front of him – instinctively, I stood at attention, staring at the view through the window being him. Anything to avoid his deep, dark gaze.</p><p>“Captain, would you come here, please? You should take off your jacket, too.”</p><p>His civility was excruciatingly humiliating. I wrenched off my jacket, put it on the glass barrier and forced myself to take two steps forward and he reached for my hand, lowering me to his lap. And then my feet were in the air, and my face was facing the floor, and I held my breath.</p><p>“Tell me why you’re being punished, Captain.”</p><p>Oh – he may be Maquis, but he also was Starfleet through and through. Rule 12.34 of the manual: “The officer undergoing discipline shall state aloud at the beginning the reason for the chastisement.”</p><p>I murmured: “I lost my ship in the Delta Quadrant, Commander.”</p><p>“Please repeat this louder, elaborate and call me sir.”</p><p>“My ship got lost in the Delta Quadrant, Sir, and I destroyed the array which would have given us a chance to get us home, Sir.”</p><p>That was probably one “sir” too many – I’d kind of lost the habit.</p><p>I felt his hand on my bottom and I couldn’t suppress a shiver – it felt so very different. And then he spanked me, not that hard, and I shivered again. He did it again, and again and again, and after about five minutes I started to feel pain – the cumulative effect. After a while longer, he stopped and rested his hand on my sore behind. Then he pushed me up. Were we done? Really? I could bear that…I would still be able to sit down… He said something and I missed it: “I’m sorry, Sir?” Probably a good idea to keep calling him Sir.</p><p>“I said – please remove your trousers and panties, Captain.”</p><p>My face couldn’t be any redder, but my cheeks were burning.</p><p>“What?” I gasped, unable to believe my ears.</p><p>“You know the rules, Captain – that was the warm-up, not the punishment.”</p><p>I groaned. He did know the rules – as did I, but… I didn’t want to beg – that would be even worse than showing a man I didn’t know at all my bare bottom. So I obeyed – kicked my boots off, which made me lose several inches and made me feel even more humiliated, dropped my trousers and lowered my panties, just a little, over my hips. Once again he caught my hand and I toppled over his lap. I felt him lower my panties to my knees and closed my eyes. His hand caressed my bottom lightly – I flinched. I had not expect tenderness… He started the spanking again and this time I knew sitting-down would be a distant memory. He covered it all, my thighs, my bottom, reddening them with blistering strokes, maddeningly unrelenting. Despite my best resolve, I started to sob and felt a wetness between my legs – this wasn’t supposed to happen. This couldn’t happen. It went on and on and I forgot the maybe not-soundproof room, I forgot I hardly knew my chastiser, I forgot everything except the pain. I even, for a blissful and agonising moment, forgot I was responsible, forgot my guilt.</p><p>He helped me up very gently and handed me my panties and trousers. I slipped them on, cursing the constrictive cut of the uniform and the coarseness of the new fabric of the trousers I’d replicated that morning. Like a small child I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and sniffed. “Thank you for punishing me, Sir”, I managed through hiccups.</p><p>He stood up and for a millisecond I thought he would take me in his arms – I’m sure he almost did, but the punishment was over and I was the captain once more. I was still standing there, red-cheeked, red-eyed, bottom burning, when he stopped just in front of the door and turned back towards me.</p><p>“Captain – I – I did what you – what I had to do. But it was not a mistake – it was not your mistake. You couldn’t have done otherwise. Get some rest.”</p><p>I think I managed a weak smile, or perhaps it was a grimace.</p><p>I didn’t sleep much.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Captain’s Log, Stardate: 48357.6</p><p>
  <em>“ Paris to the Captain.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Janeway here.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ I've done an analysis of our route through Botha space. Whenever you have a minute to check it out.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ I'm on my way to Engineering. I'll be with you as soon as I'm done.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>******</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Mister Kim, I have to assess our navigational plan and get ready to make contact with an alien species. I can't drop everything whenever you call.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>*****</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ Tuvok to Janeway.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Go ahead.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ Captain, I would like a half an hour of your time to review the security protocols before we encounter the Botha.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, Mister Tuvok. Somehow I will find half an hour.”</em>
</p><p>I turned back to Kim and Torres, who were still sniggering at the sight of the lilliputian Doctor. Somehow this enraged me even further, especially after having been dressed down by a microscopic hologram for not taking care of myself properly. For goodness’ sake! I was a grown-up woman, in charge of a starship and a crew of more than one hundred people, all of them seeming to claim for my attention at the same time. I DID NOT have time for pampering myself or indulging in futile pastime. I had a ship to get back home.</p><p>“Listen to me, Ensign – you too, Lieutenant – and listen carefully. I am NOT at your beck and call, and the next time you want to show me your incompetence, it might just be at a time when I’m otherwise engaged, doing something more important for this ship than to witness your technical fiascos. And maybe you should be too. Actually, maybe you should be scrubbing the exhaust manifolds for a while, if you’ve got nothing else to do than tinker with holograms in your spare time.”</p><p>I was on a roll. Completely aware that I was being patently unfair, too, but when I’m overtired, I tend to lash out. On that, I turned sharply on my heels and came face to face with two disapproving faces – the Doctor’s and Mr Chakotay’s, who was just coming into engineering. I blanched. I didn’t care that much about the Doctor – although he had threatened to suspend my command, I didn’t think he would do it. But if the commander had heard my little rant, he would surely make me pay for it.</p><p>“Could I see you in your ready room, Captain?”</p><p> Mr Chakotay’s voice was deceptively neutral.</p><p>“Can’t it wait, Commander? Mr Tuvok needs to see me too, and Neelix, and… Unless it’s urgent, you’ll have to take your turn.”</p><p>My tone, at the same time petulant and dismissive, was reflexively a mistake.</p><p>“It can’t, Captain.”</p><p>Still polite and respectful, but also steely. I nodded curtly and followed him out.</p><p>“I really don’t have time for this, you know”, I started as we made our way to the turbolift.</p><p>“You’ll make time, Captain”, he answered flatly. “Or would you rather I spanked you here, in this corridor?”</p><p>I blushed scarlet and frantically glanced back to see if anyone had heard him. Starfleet regulations were learnt at the Academy, and all the crew knew that the first officer was in charge of disciplining the captain, but it didn’t mean I wanted everyone to hear and see mine dress me down…Luckily, we were alone. I dived into the turbolift in sullen silence and he followed me. Once we arrived in my ready room, he strode towards my chair, behind my desk and sat down. I remained standing on the other side of the desk,  in a loose parade rest.  When he looked up at me, I straightened up automatically.</p><p>“You’re exhausted, Captain.”</p><p>Well…Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Commander…But I hadn’t expected him to say it, and I would never admit it, not even under torture. So I said nothing.</p><p>“So you’re going to go to your quarters, have something to eat, sleep, and we’ll reconvene here in five hours. Understood?”</p><p>I doubted I’d be able to sleep, and I was too tired to be hungry. But he was right – I was irritable and no use to the crew in my state of exhaustion.</p><p>“Understood,” I replied tersely.</p><p>He stood up and escorted me out of my own ready room, all the way to my quarters. I seethed.</p><p>“Are you going to tuck me into bed too, Commander?”</p><p>“Do you want to sleep on your belly, Captain?”</p><p>I capitulated. Letting the doors close behind him, I struggled out of my uniform jacket, set the alarm for four hours later and laid on the bed. Five minutes afterwards, I was asleep.</p><p>When the alarm rang – Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” – I rolled on my side and groaned. Not only would I have a headache – I always did after a short sleep – but now I’d have to face the consequences of my outburst in engineering. I splashed some water on my face, redid my make-up, tidied my hair and put my jacket back on. And headed to my ready room. At 1800 hours on the dot, Mr Chakotay strolled in. I was loath to relinquish my chair to him, but I did. He sat down, I strolled to the glass partition and leant on it. I felt his warm brown eyes on me and suddenly I wanted us to be somewhere else – somewhere with no hierarchy, no ship to get home. Just me and him, two people getting to know each other. I sighed – it was not to be, not now anyway.</p><p>“Are you feeling better, Captain?”</p><p>His solicitude was hard to take.</p><p>“I am. Thank you.”</p><p>Unlike the first time, he seemed reluctant to come to the point. And perversely, now that I felt properly ashamed of my outburst, I wanted him to discipline me soundly. Perhaps it would help assuage my guilt.</p><p>“Do you agree that you need to be punished?”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>I wanted to add: “Stop dilly-dallying and do it, will you?” but it probably wouldn’t have been wise.</p><p>“Very well – I’d like you to go and replicate me a paddle.”</p><p>I gritted my teeth and ordered the replicator to produce a middle-sized leather paddle – after all, Mr Chakotay hadn’t given me any specifics. I held it out to him and he took it.</p><p>“Take your trousers down, please.”</p><p>I obeyed.</p><p>“Now bend over the desk. I’ll give you twenty over your panties, and twenty on the bare.”</p><p>I swallowed hard – it wouldn’t be easy to take. The first spank took me by surprise – I wondered if the commander played tennis… By ten, I felt tears come to my eyes and by the time he lowered my panties, all my resistances were down. I was crying helplessly, all my energy focused on keeping my position. I’d tried to count but I was surprised when he helped me up and took me in his arms.</p><p>“I’m sparing you corner time this time, Captain, but if I ever catch you abusing your crew like that again, I’ll discipline you in front of them.”</p><p>I closed my eyes in shame, imagining the scene, and let myself be comforted by his arms and his hand stroking my blazing bottom. He kissed me then, lightly, and let go of me. Then he looked at me and said: “We’re going to have something to eat in the mess hall – I know you didn’t have anything earlier. Tuvok is in charge of the bridge. And when we get back, I want you to apologise to Mr Kim and B’Elanna. Can you do that?”</p><p>I grimaced and nodded – apologies were not my favourite thing. But I did it. And later that day, much later, when I’d finally gone to bed for real, with a sore bottom but a lighter heart, I wondered at the kiss. Definitely not regulations. And he hadn’t spared me. But his lips had touched mine for a few seconds, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“ Don't do this.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ He'll break”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>******</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ Commander. All right, we're going to try it your way. But I want to make one thing clear.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ Our first priority is to get Ransom. If there's one thing you've made clear, it's that”.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ We've had our disagreements, Chakotay, but you've never openly opposed me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ You almost killed that man today.”</em>
</p><p>“ It was a calculated risk and I took it.”</p><p>
  <em>“ It was a bad call.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ I'll note your objection in my log.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ I don't give a damn about your log. This isn't about rules and regulations. It's about right and wrong. And I'm warning you, I won't let you cross that line again.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ Then you leave me no choice. You are hereby relieved of duty until further notice.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ What's happened to you, Kathryn?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ I was about to ask you the same question.”</em>
</p><p>*******</p><p>It was all over. Well, nearly all over. Ransom was dead. I had dressed down and stripped his crew of rank. Chakotay had been reinstated. Voyager’s plaque hung once more on the wall. As far as I knew, Neelix’s potluck was still going on. I was hiding in my quarters, feeling sick, and it had nothing to do with the potluck, since I hadn’t stayed long enough to eat anything. I’d had to go away. The looks the crew gave me, some of them wary, some of them pitying, some of them angry – I just had to leave. Of course, it wasn’t like I could really go anywhere. So I hid.</p><p>This time, I had crossed the line. I don’t think it sunk in until I saw Ransom’s ship explode, though. Or maybe until I’d heard the silence Chakotay had greeted me with when I’d gone to release him from his quarters. Had I gone mad? But I had, I probably wouldn’t ask myself that question, would I? As much as I would like to think that some alien entity had taken momentarily hold of my brain and made me put my ship in jeopardy, almost murder a man for being loyal to his commanding officer and drive a fellow captain to his death… It would be too easy. I was responsible for my actions and I would have to answer for them and take the consequences. I was scared, though. Had I driven a wedge between my crew and I, broken their trust in me forever? The blankness of Chakotay’s face had sobered me. Tuvok wasn’t happy with me either, but it was Chakotay’s support I feared losing most. Would he come to me, offering atonement for my sins? I waited.</p><p>About an hour later, I got up and went to get a blanket to wrap myself in. I felt chilled to the bone. He hadn’t come. Did I dare summon him? He would come then. He was, after all, my First Officer, and a dedicated one. Had he given up on me? He had told me he had dismissed all thoughts of mutiny, but had he lied. The wait was more unbearable than the knowing. I pressed my com badge: “Janeway to Chakotay – would you come to my quarters, please?”</p><p>Five minutes later, he was there. I looked up at his face. He looked down at me. I was still huddled in my blanket on the sofa.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” I murmured.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>He sat down beside me and put his hand on my leg. “I’m sorry too, Kathryn – I should have stopped you. Stood my ground.”</p><p>“You couldn’t have stopped me. I’d have sent you to the brig. I confined you to quarters, for God’s sake!” He’d called me Kathryn. He had not given up on me. I started to cry. And he took me in his arms. We had never crossed “that” line – never spent the night together, never done more than recomforting embraces and stolen kisses. I was almost sure I loved him, even when he had to discipline me – oh hell, sometimes, my body responded to his discipline in a less than platonic fashion. But…I was the captain. The rules were strict – he was my subordinate. So I had folded my love away for future use, once we would be back, and kept with me deep affection for him.</p><p>He kissed me and wiped my tears with his fingers. I buried my face in his neck and cried harder, releasing days of stress and misery. He held me tight and after several long minutes, I finally calmed down and straightened up.</p><p>“You’ll have to follow the rules,” I stated quietly.</p><p>“I know,” he said, just as quietly. “I don’t want to, though. You were wrong, but you’re not fit to…”</p><p>“You have to do it, Chakotay. For the crew. For me. You can’t wait until I’m “fit”. I know the punishment. I’ll… I’ll be brave.”</p><p>I had already earned the cane a few times, but Chakotay had given it to me in private, and had always soothed my skin the next day with the dermo-regenerator. The only public punishments I’d had had been a few swats on the bridge, on my trousers, on days I’d been in a bad mood and particularly disagreeable to the crew. I always felt deeply ashamed afterwards and quickly amended my behaviour. This time he wouldn’t be – couldn’t be – so lenient. Starfleet rules were clear. For endangering one’s ship and putting one’s own goals before the safety of one’s crew, the punishment was severe – a public caning, no fewer than 40 strokes, on the bare. No dermoregenerator unless the cane broke the skin. The First Officer was allowed to let other members of the crew take their turn. Would Chakotay… I swallowed hard and turned my tear-stained face to him: “It should be tomorrow morning.”</p><p>He nodded: “All right – I’ll let you sleep. I’ll come for you tomorrow at 0800 in your ready room.” He kissed me again, a soft kiss on my lips, caressed my hair and left.</p><p>I didn’t sleep. Of course I didn’t – even if I hadn’t been dreading the punishment, the events of the previous days would have kept me awake. When I looked at myself in the mirror in the morning, I had deep dark shadows under my eyes. I combed my hair, knowing that soon it would fall in disarray on my face, hiding blushing cheeks and more tears. I smoothed my uniform, checked my appearance one more time in the mirror and left my quarters for my ready room.</p><ol>
<li>Unable to sit still, I paced. At 0800, the door beeped and Chakotay entered. He went directly to my chair behind the desk and I came to stand at attention before it. He didn’t let me wait.</li>
</ol><p>“Captain Kathryn Janeway, you’re guilty of endangering your ship and your crew. Do you have anything to say?”</p><p>“No, Sir”, I replied softly.</p><p>“Very well. You will receive forty strokes of the cane on the bare –“</p><p>I let my stiff back relax just a little. Only forty. He was being kind.</p><p>“- and a spanking, which I shall administer now. The crew is waiting on the bridge.”</p><p>He stood up, changed chairs and motioned for me to come on his lap. I swallowed hard and came nearer. Just before lowering myself, I stared at the floor, not wanting to see his eyes, and asked in a small voice: “Will you let the others…”</p><p>“What do you think?” he replied.</p><p>“I think I deserve it,” I murmured. “But I hope you won’t. Please.”</p><p>“I wasn’t going to, Kathryn. But you do deserve it.”</p><p>I nodded, still looking at the floor, and took my position.</p><p>It hurt. Oh God – it hurt. His hand was hard, the rhythm unrelenting, and my bottom was soon on fire. When he helped me up, I had managed not to start crying, but my throat was already raw from unshed tears. I made to pull up my pants but Chakotay stopped me: “We’ll leave those here, Captain. Please follow me.”</p><p>I don’t think my cheeks could have reddened more, but as I obediently followed him to the bridge, trousers-less and pants-less, I know I was blushing scarlet. Every eye was on me as he led me to the centre of the bridge, half-naked, my red bottom on display. He ordered me to bend over the captain’s chair and addressed the crew: “I shall administer the punishment – forty strokes on the bare. Then the matter will be closed.”</p><p>I didn’t see the cane, only heard the few times he switched it in the air for practice. And then I heard it closer, and a bar of fire branded my skin. And again – and again. By ten, I started crying and lost count. The pain radiated, glowing, burning and hissing on my bottom. I gritted my teeth to keep from the indignity of screaming. Small mercy – I succeeded, until the very last strokes, which landed on the extremely sensitive zone between behind and thighs. I yelped, remained bent over by sheer force of will, and my teeth extracted blood from my lips. I knew only pain, never realising the caning had stopped until a hand came to rub my back and I heard “It’s over, Kathryn, you did well” in my ear.</p><p>Chakotay spared me the shame of corner time, and of having to address my crew in my state of undress. He silently handed me panties and uniform trousers, and I slipped them on, still facing the chair, almost screaming anew as the fabric touched my raw behind. I then ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath to steady myself. Finally, I turned around and addressed first Chakotay and then the crew: “Thank you for my chastisement, Sir. I deserved it. This will not happen again. Please return to your duties.”</p><p>I knew I was not allowed to go and hide in my ready room, so I gingerly sat down, stifling a cry at the contact with the leather chair, the trousers offering scant protection. Chakotay took his place next to me. He couldn’t hug me. I couldn’t seek the comfort of his embrace. But I held out my hand and he took it, squeezing it gently, offering me the reassurance I craved.</p>
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